


Jeeves and the Trouble With Ties (or Bertie has terrible taste in ties and Jeeves cures it for him)

by pentacs14



Category: Jeeves & Wooster, Jeeves - P. G. Wodehouse
Genre: BDSM, Bertie is too flighty to learn his lessons any way but the hard way, Darkish Themes, Emotional Manipulation, Jeeves is a BAMV (bad ass master valet) even after sexy times, Jeeves is a noted (or is that notorious?) tie snob, M/M, PWP, Restraint, Rough Sex, forceful!Jeeves, i should apologize for this but I won't, love me some dark!Jeeves, not quite as bad as these tags are making it out to seem, nothing redeeming about this at all, tie-abuse, timid!Bertie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-02
Updated: 2014-03-02
Packaged: 2018-01-14 08:30:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1259746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pentacs14/pseuds/pentacs14
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeeves has found a sure-fire way to curb Bertie's more flamboyant choices in neck wear.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jeeves and the Trouble With Ties (or Bertie has terrible taste in ties and Jeeves cures it for him)

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimers: Do not own, am making no profit, etc. If you have issues with m/m pairings do not continue.
> 
> Unusual disclaimers: If you're a real stickler for consent I would maybe give this one a miss. Not overtly non-con but no explicitly stated con either.
> 
> Knocked out quickly and completely unbetaed - you see anything glaringly awful let me know and I'll try to fix it.

The rough silk caught at Bertie's tender skin and the ragged gasp that escaped his lips echoed loudly in the otherwise quiet room.

The solid figure behind him let out a grunt at the sound and nipped at his earlobe causing Bertie to gasp again and give a little squirm.

A low moan rumbled through the chest beneath him and the band of iron that was Jeeves' arm across his middle constricted painfully.

Bertie panted as he watched the tapered end of the tie not wrapped snugly around his wrists traveling up his painfully engorged cock in the other man's grip to caress the tip.

Jeeves' hand closed around the head, the silk crushed between his fingers and Bertie's inflamed member, making him whimper low in his throat and shift again.

Jeeves hissed as the movement rubbed his own erect cock between his stomach and Bertie's back.

His hand loosened and Bertie drew in a deep breath before letting it out with a choked sound as his valet tugged on the loose end of the tie.

The silk drew taut, forcing Bertie's trapped hands closer to his own erection, and causing the silk to curl around his throbbing member in a maddening caress.

Jeeves allowed the fabric to linger a moment, allowing it to stroke against Bertie's overheated skin and drawing more whimpers from him, before slowly dragging it upwards to follow the same path his hand had traveled mere moments ago.

Bertie gritted his teeth to keep in another sound and turned his head away from the full length mirror that hung on the inside of the open wardrobe door facing them.

Jeeves released the tie to grip Bertie's chin firmly and force his head back around, biting down on the sensitive skin of his neck so that Bertie's eyes flew open in shock.

It was a thoroughly debauched sight that greeted him in the mirror's reflection and his already pink skin flushed a darker hue.

Jeeves sat on the edge of the bed, though the only parts of him that could be seen were the brilliantine gleam of his still perfectly coiffed hair, dark against Bertie's own tousled fair locks, the arm wrapped around his master's heaving sweat-sheened chest and his legs planted firmly on the floor.

Bertie was sprawled in the man's lap, his legs gaping wide and feet hooked on the outside of Jeeves' knees, the only thing keeping him from sliding to the floor in a puddle the arm clamped like a vise around his midsection.

Jeeves brought calloused fingers down to pinch at a tender coral-tinted nipple and Bertie writhed against him again, the silk of the half-forgotten tie slithering down to flutter teasingly against his heavy aching ball sack.

The body supporting his own stiffened and before Bertie knew what was happening he had been tossed unceremoniously onto the rumpled bedding in a panting heap.

Before he could take in his changed circumstances, catch his breath, or even think about attempting to right himself, Jeeves' work-roughened hands were back turning him over onto his stomach and yanking him backwards.

Bertie floundered on his knees and elbows at the edge of the bed, bound hands unable to find purchase or hold his weight, his chest brushing the soft surface of the cream-colored duvet.

The mirror he couldn't seem to avoid showed him groveling wantonly in the bed linens like a threepenny whore, seemingly desperate and panting for it.

He closed his eyes against this shameful image only to have them spring open once again as cool, slick fingers prodded at his entrance and with a practiced twist slid in like they belonged there.

Bertie felt more than heard the quiet whine that fought its way up his throat and past his back teeth as the digits worked themselves back and forth, in and out, deeper with each thrust until they seemed to be stroking the very center of his being.

Before too long the fingers left him with an obscene-sounding pop and Bertie's knees wobbled, threatening to give out until Jeeves wormed a strong arm under his trembling thighs to keep him firmly in place.

He felt Jeeves' other arm work its way up his body leaving a trail of gooseflesh in its wake and couldn't suppress a tremor as the man wrapped the loose end of the tie around his large fist and pulled.

Bertie's eyes went wide as his arms were yanked up and over his head, his fingers practically stroking the hair at the nape of his own neck, his elbows slipping forward and forcing his upper body even lower, his breath exploding out of him as his chest hit the mattress forcefully.

Something larger and blunter than Jeeves' fingers pressed to his opening and he was helpless to check the whimper that escaped his lips at the sensation.

With a sharp thrust Jeeves half buried himself within the slighter man and Bertie let out a mewling cry, wallowing in the fabric but unable to move with Jeeves holding him so tight.

Several forceful jabs later he was nearly fully sheathed in Bertie's tight heat and Bertie was trembling from head to foot, his current position allowing him no control.

Jeeves pulled out until only the very tip of his iron-hard cock was still within Bertie's body then plunged back in, sheathing himself to the hilt and forcing a cry from Bertie's lips that was just shy of a scream.

He set a fast brutal pace, each thrust hard and sharp and deep, pistoning into him with the force of a locomotive.

Despite himself Bertie's eyes were drawn again to the mirror and the look of intense concentration that shone on Jeeves' usually impassive face as he drove into his master's body over and over.

He held the tie high and tight and rode Bertie like one of those cowboy chappies over in the colonies might ride an unbroken stallion, trying to force dominion over some free-spirited animal until it acknowledged that it had been thoroughly mastered.

He wasn't sure if it was that normally cold and collected visage looking so darkly animated or the comparison he had drawn that caused him to cry out and shudder in the man's arms but, whatever the case, his actions caused Jeeves to rut into him with a stuttering rhythm.

The man's arm shifted and he only had to grasp Bertie's neglected erection roughly before his whole body lit up, no force on earth capable of halting the orgasm rushing through him like wild fire.

Jeeves found his own release with a guttural moan and, before the stars had even cleared from Bertie's eyes, the other man was slipping from him, taking the tie with a whisper of silk against flesh and Bertie was left to tumble into a tangled heap of sore limbs and damp bedding.

When Bertie had caught his breath and his body had stopped shivering with aftershocks he blinked his eyes open blearily in search of his manservant.

Jeeves was at the wardrobe, once again impeccably attired in his severe valet's togs, not a hair out of place or a button half-done, as he pulled clothes from the wardrobe with precision and no hint of his recent activities.

“Will we be wanting the charcoal tweed this evening, sir?” he asked without turning around.

Bertie opened his mouth but it took several tries before he could produce any sound.

“Yes, that would be fine, Jeeves,” he finally said, his voice shaking and quite incapable of attaining the level of nonchalance his companion was evincing.

When everything was laid out just so, every item ruler straight and not a hint of lint to be seen, Jeeves turned, a dark gleam only just visible in his eyes.

“Will we be wearing our new tie to sup with Mrs. Gregson, sir?” he asked politely.

No one overhearing the question would have noticed anything amiss but Bertie's nervous ear caught a certain thingness that made him twitch like a fly-stung horse.

A pink flush suffused his pale cheeks as he stared at the innocent-seeming lemon yellow silk with its cheery pattern of strawberries dancing across the front, his wrists still pink and chaffed from its harsh use.

It had looked quite the thing in the store window nestled between a bright orange number with green piping and a sort of eggplant paisley, just the ticket for cheering a fellow up on a dreary Wednesday afternoon with the threat of dinner with aunts hanging over one's head.

Now the thought of wearing it while sitting across from Aunt Agatha made him shudder violently.

He could already hear the tone in her voice as she berated him for spilling his soup, a slight tremor in his hand whenever he glanced down at his bowl and caught sight of the thing.

“No, I don't believe so, Jeeves,” Bertie said with a squeak in his voice. “Something a little less... whatsit, if you don't mind.”

“Very good, sir,” Jeeves said, turning back to the collection of ties. “Perhaps the butternut squash and kelly green plaid Mr. Glossop so thoughtfully procured for you during his most recent sojourn to Scotland.”

Bertie's face flamed as memories danced through his head of that particular tie binding his slim wrists to the headboard, his knees tossed over Jeeves' broad shoulders, Jeeves' thick fingers in Bertie's mouth to keep him from stifling his cries as he took his master with harsh strokes.

“No, I don't believe that's quite the ticket either, old thing,” Bertie gabbled out, his color mounting even higher.

“One of the...” Jeeves trailed off a moment to allow his lip to twitch minutely. “Polka dots, perchance?” There was a second lengthier pause before he added, “Sir.”

There was no doubt in Bertie's mind that Jeeves could have used his cheeks to fry a perfectly serviceable egg.

In his mind's eye he could see the pair of polka dot ties, a birthday present from his friends at the Drone's Club, shackling his wrists to his ankles, his body bent like a bowstring as Jeeves sucked at him with such consummate skill that Bertie saw stars and and his vision had grayed out when he finally came violently down the man's throat.

“The light blue, I think, Jeeves,” Bertie choked out desperately, his throat sealing almost shut. "With the silver pinstripe."

Quiet, sensible, and without any depraved or perverted memories attached; it was one Jeeves had picked out on their last expedition to the tailors, extolling its virtues, its understated elegance and ability to go with many of the master's ensembles.

“ _Very_ good, sir,” Jeeves said with wicked satisfaction as he plucked the requested tie from the rack.

Bertie gave a delicious shudder and turned away as the mirror reflected the man's dark smirk back at him.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dedicated to the amazing stories on the Wodehouse kink_meme over on the ohidosay livejournal community. The prompts are myriad and the writers are absolutely terrific. I wish I could kidnap them all and keep them in my closet for rainy days...


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